


Winter's Gift

by GooseWhiskers



Category: Wolvden (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Happy Ending, Spirits, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GooseWhiskers/pseuds/GooseWhiskers
Summary: Two wolves go out on the first full moon with snow to make an offering to the spirits, expecting to leave food behind and be on their way. But when their good moods and playful demeanor attract something frightening, they're in for a once-in-a-lifetime surprise!
Relationships: OC/OC
Kudos: 4





	Winter's Gift

**Author's Note:**

> An entry for [Xylax's writing contest over on Wolvden!](https://www.wolvden.com/chatter/topic/191293)  
> We were given a picture and asked to write a story about it in 500-1500 words. Had a blast with it! :D  
> Nathanael and Norah's names are inspired by Nate and Nora from the Fallout 4 game, my favorite one!

Winter shouldn’t be so dreary. Norah paused along the edge of the treeline, breath fogging the midnight air. Even with the full moon above to cast light over the landscape, all she could see were skeletal trees and a blanket of suffocating white.

“What spirits would have us celebrate at a time like this?” She muttered. “There’s nothing out here at all.”

A chuckle answered her, as Nathanael trotted up and shook snow from his dark fur. Cold powder showered her face.

She growled, smacking him with a heavy paw. “Ugh!”

“Well _I’m_ celebrating.” Nathanael answered, hoping to appease her with a playful grin as he flopped down onto his side. “Why’d you even agree to come for the offering if you didn’t want to be out in the snow?”

For a moment she scowled. Then, with a good-natured roll of her eyes, swept a paw towards him and tossed another pile of snow onto his face. Nathanael yelped in surprise, kicking up as she dove to embrace him, tail wagging. “I wanted to spend time with _you_ , silly. Even if it’s just this.”

He hummed, nibbling affectionately at her throat as she nuzzled him. “I guess that’s a good reason.”

The task they’d been assigned wasn’t difficult, but it _was_ important. On the first full moon with snow, two wolves would bring an offering of hare and pheasant to the edge of the mountain – where woods turned to prairie. A gift for the spirits of the land to ensure their partnership for another year. Benevolent ones would see the offering and be inspired to reciprocate. Troublesome imps and boggarts would prefer to limit their trickery, in hopes of continued offerings the next year round.

It would be tempting to curl up here with Nathanael and lose themselves in each other’s eyes, huddled warm in the snow, but if they didn’t complete their task, the pack would feel it come spring. Norah gave his muzzle an affectionate lick and then stood again. “C’mon, we can be foolish once this is done.”

He wagged his tail, reciprocating the kiss, and then trotted back to the carcasses. She’d offered to carry one, but Nathanael seemed to consider it a point of pride that he could fit both in his mouth at once.

They weren’t too far from the flat stone where the meals would be placed. It took twice as long as it should have, because Nathanael kept stopping to romp in a snow pile, or admire the way the ice glittered in the moonlight on barren branches, or greet the curious ravens who came to follow them. Each earned a longsuffering sigh from Norah, but she had to admit, his infatuation with winter weather was endearing. He made the season beautiful, in a way she’d never imagined it to be before.

When the stone came into view, Norah ducked into a bow, taunting Nathanael to race her. They bolted through the snow, sending white flurries behind them. Playful barks and muffled yips echoed over the otherwise grim and silent valley. Perhaps not the solemn, stoic visitation the pack typically attended this event with.

Only when they were out of breath did Nathanael place their offerings out. His chest ached from the cold air and the effort of laughter. But his tail continued to wag. “I’m glad you came with me.”

Norah licked at a creamy shoulder, an ear flicking coyly. “You might win me over on winter. In puppy-steps.”

A snicker. Ears pricked, he looked back over their appeasement. “I guess we should go. It’s bad luck to wait for the spirits, they don’t like being watched.”

“Has anyone ever tried?” Norah scoffed. “I can’t recollect a single story where anyone waited here.”

“The Elders must say it for a reason.” His tongue brushed his nose, “Maybe we forgot why, but that doesn’t make it untrue.”

An earsplitting crash echoed through the woods, sending them both to their feet, fur bristling. Nathanael’s ears lay flat against the base of his neck.

“…Probably just ice breaking a tree branch.” He suggested. Which was reasonable. Believable.

Norah swallowed, forcing herself to take a step back and relax the fur along her hackles. “We should still go back.”

He didn’t argue.

As they walked, Norah’s steps were slow and her head low, quiet, ears swiveling. Both knew it was silly. Nathanael stayed silent, too. Neither teased the other for their nervous gait. Norah might mock the superstition of her packmates, but she knew there were things out there besides wolves and benevolent ghosts. If it had heard her, she may have offended it.

They’d barely crossed the treeline before another CRASH tore the air like a lightning strike, reverberating through her chest. It left her ears ringing. And a low, stuttering bugle carried through the static air. “That’s not ice,” she hissed, pressing against Nathanael’s side.

No. It wasn’t ice.

The ground shook. Splinters and snaps of frozen wood made it sound as if the entire forest was being torn down. Such a din Norah thought it might deafen her. A spirit. It must be. She’d angered them, and they were here to extract vengeance. She hadn’t time to feel guilt or remorse, only terror. Her yellow eyes were wide with it.

They should _run_ , but Nathanael stood stock still, ears and eyes toward the sound, showing neither fear nor aggression as she shrank beside him.

And the pack called _her_ the impulsive one!

“Running wouldn’t do us any good.” He barked, barely audible. As if he’d read her thoughts. Trees crashed down through the cold night fog, until she realized they weren’t all _trees._ Long, black, spindly legs shifted through the pine bones. And above them, a shaggy black skeletal frame. Eyes that glowed white like the moon above.

Norah’s teeth bared, fur fluffed up to twice her normal size as the forest parted for this unearthly creature. Her tail curled with submissive terror.

Nathanael stepped forward. His paws left deep prints in the snow behind him.

The beast paused. Air sighed from its mouth but left no smoke. A cold creature. Cold as the winter snow. It didn’t strike. Only leaned down – which for a moment terrified her further. And she nearly lunged. Maybe it would be more interested in her, maybe Nathanael could escape.

“Hello.” He offered. Calm enough to think he was insane.

After a moment fighting her own instinct, Norah crept up beside him. She kept her tail tucked, each step an effort. The creature held unnaturally still. With no pupils, it was hard to know who it looked at, but she couldn’t shake the feeling the spirit’s attention was fully on her.

Then it shifted, immense weight borne on lopsided trees with grasping, unnatural fingers. She couldn’t bite back a whining-growl, as if warning it would do any good.

The spirit tilted its head and cooed. Loud. It shook through her core. But a gesture so benign that for a moment she didn’t know how to react.

Nathanael’s tail wagged with encouragement. “Are you a winter spirit?”

It rumbled louder. Not really a yes, but answer was heartening enough. With its next breath upon her fur came the sense of sleeping trees and bitter cold, burrowed animals, biting wind. A lonely, quiet _waiting_ as the world hunkered down to sleep away the storm. And this – the steward of a thousand unseen things, shepherding the silence. It’s curiosity was piqued by the two creatures brave enough to play in its domain.

Not safe. Not tame. But it hadn’t come to claim them. Nor was it here to punish her arrogance. Only curious, and disinclined to hide its true form – as monstrous as it might appear to mortal wolves. They were being blessed.

“We’ve left an offering.” She spoke in a whisper, but it seemed to be listening. “On the old stone at the edge of the woods ...”

Of course it must know that, if it was here. Slowly it lifted itself upright, glowing eyes high above them casting milky light on the forest floor. And then with great strides it parted the forest, cascading over them and vanishing – but how or when they lost sight of it Norah realized she couldn’t quite recall. Spirits, after all, kept no measure of time the way wolves did. There was simply silence once more, and only fallen winter trees as a sign of its passing.

When she felt able, she looked back to Nathanael, yellow eyes meeting pale ones. He gaped faintly, then grinned, and laughed in disbelief. “Did that-?”

“Really happen?” Panting, she uncurled her tail. He staggered forward to nuzzle her, still laughing, and licked the fur down on her hackles.

“The pack will never believe us.” She realized, and buried into Nathanael’s shoulder, too in awe now to still be afraid.


End file.
